The Eye and The Storm
by Murr-Quan Lord 2
Summary: Part Three of the Cocytan Trilogy. Slasher is taken to the Cocytan homeworld, given her wings, and becomes civilized. Meanwhile, the aliens themselves are working on a new project... Takes place right before the upcoming Sonic Two adaptation.


LEGAL NOTICE: The Cocytans as a race are presumably copyrighted by Lucasarts, while all specific Cocytan characters featured in this work are copyrighted by Jared Spurbeck, as are Shadow and Tachyon. Slasher is copyrighted by K. M. Hollar. Have you hugged a Penguin today? You really should.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is intended to take place in the NetRaptor Sonic universe, quite some time before any other stories (with the exception of Alpha Centauri). It is also the third story in the Cocytan Trilogy, of which Alpha Centauri and Alien Crossfire are the first two.

SIGMA DRACONIS IVc

(Human designation: Cocytus)

1897 AD

Slasher's prison was quite spacious, even by her standards: a cube, perhaps thirty feet on each side. No furnishings, save for a sort of complex geometric structure in the center, running from the very top to the very bottom and sporting a thousand assorted loops and protuberances. No visible door or windows. She wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten in there, couldn't remember being placed in it.

Oftentimes she'd wake up in the middle of the night, inside another room. Sprawled out on some sort of platform for the benefit of the "researchers", experiencing helpless fury - and agony - as they operated on her. Because they were somehow able to paralyze her, without numbing the pain in the slightest. They probably weren't incapacitating the other captives; she could hear them screaming in the background.

The walls of her room were painted a deep shade of blue, presumably in some attempt to make her feel more tranquil. But, these efforts were unsuccessful, as she was quite livid.

She hated her captors, for torturing and imprisoning her. And she hated Tachyon; could still remember attacking him, being knocked to the ground by an unseen enemy, and waking up just in time to hear the falcon order her taken captive. If that stupid bird had just co-operated in the first place...! She leaped about the room, loudly cursing Tachyon, the aliens, and those horrible experiments, all in the ancient Raptor tongue. Punctuating her screams with attacks that would have been lethal, had someone been in the way.

Finally she crowched on the ground, thoroughly exhausted, her panting breaths sounding like low growls. It should have taken much more than a few minutes of activity to wear her out, and she had the Cocytans to thank that it did. Using who-knew-what sort of techniques they'd actually fastened a pair of wings to her back - hideous things that appeared little more than raw skin, stretched out across an artificial skeleton of dull metal. Tiny pinfeathers poked out of the pinkish membrane, as if it wasn't repulsive enough without them. The wings were cumbersome, and she tired quickly with the extra weight strapped to her back. She'd tried gnawing the wretched things off, but had immediately stopped, feeling pain where there shouldn't be any sensation at all... the wings were permanently wired into her nervous system, as near as she could tell.

And they weren't nearly as bizarre as some of the other things she'd seen there. What on Mobius possessed these aliens to do such things? No, scratch that. She definitely wasn't on Mobius, anymore.

Slasher got back up after a moment and stalked around the perimeter of the room, every now and then turning to kick at the wall. If there was a weak spot, she'd find it. She would escape, and she would kill every one of those accursed Cocytans!

After a minute or two she stopped in her tracks, an immense wave of fatigue sweeping through her mind. What was going on? She barely had a second to ponder that question before falling into a nanite-induced sleep.

***

The Second had been exposed to similar tortures. The gene traders had gone back for his First and Third, and they'd all been experimented on in ways that defied almost every interpretation of Ethical Calculus. Such as that time when his vocal chords had been... he didn't want to think about it anymore.

But now, he was free. He, and the rest of his triad. Months ago, in the Alpha Centauri system, he'd underestimated his own nanite programming abilities, and the gene traders had made the same mistake upon capturing him. Oh, they'd seen what he could do; the Talent that he'd spindashed had forced him to swallow a billion hunter-seeker viruses, probably the least pleasant way of administering the foul things. His nanites were systematically destroyed, and he had been violently ill for an entire week afterwards.

His First and Third still possessed nanites, but neither knew how to use them... so he had apportioned several of theirs and grew an entirely new colony. It was something that was never meant to be done; after all, the nanites grew in complete symbiosis with their host from before hatching. They weren't attuned to his physiology, and he became sick again as his immune system rejected batch after batch of nanites.

Neither were they familiar with his psychology. Trying to communicate with them, to get them to understand the signals of his resonance nodules, was almost like teaching the Ancient Tongue to a village of inferiors.

But, he continually amazed himself with how much he was able to accomplish. Even when he tried to instruct them, his brothers couldn't seem to grasp more than the rudiments of nanite programming, whereas he had a natural aptitude for it. No, more than that... he was naturally adept at the task, and had even his brothers' nanites responding to complex instructions before long.

And then, his months of preparation had paid off. Some of his nanites were directed into the base's communications network, and a message was sent to the Creator - an honorific term for the famed Cocytan scientist / engineer who managed the facility that they worked at. They were rescued; and goodness, but it was almost enjoyable to see the look on that Talent's face as he was taken into custody.

White, feathery fur perfectly groomed for the first time since his captivity, the Second walked with a triumphant air. The gene traders had been shut down, their contacts in the Primary Triad exposed. Their base was now being surveyed, and who better than the NEW Primary Triad to co-ordinate it?

Unfortunately, his First and Third had both been affected somewhat more harshly by the experiments, and were still recovering. But, he tried not to let that get in the way of his good mood.

Several dozen other Cocytans surveyed the gigantic room they were in, a crystalline shape of two hundred sides and a royal blue color. Doors were embedded in each side, gateways to the individual holding chambers. This was the "genetic repository", the supreme bank of all biological data acquired, stored on the original media.

In other words, a zoo for those animals that had been captured. And a prison for the more intelligent beings.

The size of the chamber was almost overwhelming; he found it difficult to make out his companions, pacing the walkways on the opposite end. It dampened his mood somewhat to think of the magnitude of the gene traders' cruelty, not to mention its variety. Some of the things he'd seen in his survey would make it very difficult for him to sleep, later.

The Quaternary Triad accompanying him - a group of three female technicians, wearing tan cloaks that matched their fur - he passed by several doors to his left, arranged around the perimeter of the crystalline room. Each one emitted its identification code along a certain frequency, detectable by his resonance nodes; each one empty, or containing dead lifeforms. The latter would have to be investigated sometime later.

"Sir?" The other triad's First addressed him respectfully, and indicated a door slightly ahead of them. "What does that signature identify?"

He tried to determine it. "I think that chamber houses a particularly dangerous creature."

"Shall we investigate?"

The Second clicked his claws together. "By all means."

A nanite interface with the door's systems was established, much to the continuing amazement of the Quaternary Triad; they continued to accept the notion that those of their age couldn't understand such concepts. He smiled at this, but it quickly turned into a frown as he "read" off the data on the room's contents. There was a medium-sized, quasi-reptilian creature inside, which was listed as posing a potential threat to unarmed researchers.

He turned to the other three. "Get me a warper, set for the hazardous lifeforms internment area."

They quickly obliged him, and he told the door's computer to have the creature incapacitated. That done, he calmly strode inside.

The room's most prominent feature was an immense sculpture of some sort, stretching from ceiling to floor; no, the Second corrected himself. It looked more like it was designed as some sort of gym, a structure for exercise. Had probably been quite heavily used, judging from the cuts and gashes in it.

The Second saw something behind it. He walked around the structure, the Quaternary Triad remaining at the door. Silly people.

As he got closer, he could see the creature. It was perhaps two-thirds his own height and twice that in length, its huge tail stretching out on the floor behind itself. A brownish skin color, with darker stripes along its back. And, fortunately, it was quite unconscious.

Once again, he frowned. Grotesque, barely feathered wings were attached to its back. And, as if they didn't appear to be out of place as it was, their skeleton seemed to be made out of a lightweight metal. Hardly as repulsive as some of the other things he'd seen, but still disturbing.

He tossed the warper onto it, and then walked out, hardly giving the poor creature a second thought.

-----------------

T H E E Y E

and

T H E S T O R M

-----------------

by Jared Spurbeck, Murr-Quan Lord #2.

***

Ta'val'narh'hin'rhee Archipelago Research Facility, Cocytus

Three Years Later

***

Back on Mobius, when the Cocytans were kidnapping everybody, Shadow had said that it was the End of the World.

And, in a sense, it was. For Andrew, anyway. He was a young, Mobian fox, perhaps twelve years old. A little tall for his age, and with fur the color of thick smoke. His personal world, the set of experiences and memories that made up his life, had been shattered when the Cocytans had taken him away.

But if it was the end of one world, it was also the beginning of another. Certainly the experiments and tortures had been horrible (they also explained why he had no tail), but things got somewhat better after he'd been rescued.

The archipelago, or clustering of islands, consisted of one central island - where the messenger probes landed - and five smaller spires around it, prominences of land jutting up into the sky. Seen from afar, the five seemed not to have any land that wasn't angled sharply to the ocean, but those who lived and worked there knew better. He sat at a beach of sorts, the light reflecting off its stony surface and onto the staircase, set into the spire's steep cliffside behind him.

The color blue was predominant there, with a swirl of black that seemed to blend in. The sky above him was blue, the smooth stones of the "beach" were black and blue, the staircase and doors set into the cliff which housed the complex's museum were blue. Even the ocean was blue, though it appeared purple in places, and the setting sun gave the atmosphere around it a reddish tinge. He thought that was a nice effect.

The other Mobians in the complex seemed to find that place dismal, and gloomy. He couldn't imagine why. Certainly it was a little less cheerful during thunderstorms, when the water would begin to splash all over the place, but he thought that the overall effect was more calming than anything else. He loved going there in the evening and just relaxing by himself, maybe skipping a stone or two, when he could find them. Watching the birds, almost like seagulls, flying lazily through the air above the islands.

No; he corrected himself. One of those shapes in the sky wasn't a bird. It was a... he kept forgetting the name, a something-raptor. A dinosaur, from Earth. Slasher appeared reptilian, but usually became offended at the suggestion that she was a lizard. Dinosaurs, she would point out, have many avian characteristics in them as well.

That statement often prompted giggling from the other children. Her "avian characteristics" were much more pronounced than in others of her species, as she sported a pair of massive wings. Sprouting from her back, covered in beautiful (and equally gigantic) feathers. Wingspan almost as great as her length, tail included. What had begun as a sadistic experiment on the part of the gene traders had become a great source of pride for her, and entertainment for the Mobian children. Hardly a day went by when she wouldn't let one of them ride on her back; in fact, Andrew thought he could see someone there right now.

Her rider was barely moving, and in fact seemed to be clinging on for dear life. He chuckled. Probably Danielle, he thought. The rabbit didn't seem to enjoy such rides nearly as much as the others, and would only do so to prove that she wasn't afraid. Whether her fear was of heights or of giant dinosaurs with six-inch claws, he wasn't quite sure. Probably both.

He'd often been teased about it, too. Andrew was afraid of heights, they said. Andrew didn't trust Slasher, they said. It was actually a lot simpler than that: he wasn't interested. Not to mention that Slasher sort of tended to get on his nerves.

He looked back up, at the distant island. She was no longer in sight, and the birds had probably gone back to their nests for the night. He should probably be going back, he thought, before it got too chilly. But, he would stay a little longer. He liked it there.

Yes, Slasher could certainly be annoying at times. Always trying so hard to be agreeable, both with them and the Cocytans. It was as if she'd taken it upon herself to entertain all the other children, and couldn't stand the thought that they might want to be alone for a little while. Which tended to conflict with his desire for solitude. All day he would work with the Cocytans, helping them with those incomprehensible projects of theirs. And then, in the evenings, all the other children would play their little games, which he found both trivial and boring. And noisy. What was so wrong with wanting a little peace and quiet?

He also liked being away from the Cocytans, and the way they looked down on the Mobians. Not just literally; being several times larger, they certainly couldn't help that. No, it was a mindset of theirs. They seemed to consider the Mobians to be dumb animals, or something. Andrew didn't like this idea very much. After all, he certainly wasn't dumb.

Once he'd asked one of the Cocytans that he worked with about it; much smaller than the others, though still taller than him. She said that the Mobians were an inferior, childlike race, and that it was her species' duty to help and teach them. A noble goal, certainly, but he didn't like being considered inferior. He always tried to keep their negative opinions of him to a minimum, tried to be as civilized as possible.

Which was pretty much the opposite of Slasher's approach. Always eager to please, even for the Cocytans. Running around, filled with energy, asking them what she was supposed to do as soon as she'd completed a task. Didn't she see how they looked at her, like she was an amusing pet? Didn't she-

He leaped backwards, directly from his sitting position, before he even knew what had happened. There were two screams - one of which was his own - and his heart rate immediately shot straight up as instinct recognized the creature in front of him just a half-second before intellect.

Slasher, her jaws slowly closing and forming a smile. She started laughing, and turned to face a Mobian rabbit who just now walked into view. "Got him good, didn't I?"

Danielle, the other Mobian, wasn't quite as enthusiastic. "Can we go home now?"

The next few parts of their conversation were tuned out by a growing irritation on Andrew's part, replacing surprise as he forced himself to calm back down. The raptor could be so... juvenile. Her species might be just about physically mature at eight years of age, but she acted every bit the child she was.

His face was beginning to turn quite red, from anger and embarrassment both, and he was glad that his fur obscured this fact. He folded his arms as he addressed Slasher. "I don't suppose you have any actual reason for coming out here?"

"Yeah. Your mom wanted me to come get you." She turned her side to him, and folded her wings down. "Hop on!"

"I'll take the tram, thank you." Behind Slasher, the rabbit expressed similar sentiments.

"Aww. Spoil all my fun, why don't you. Okay, but you'd better get back before dark, or she's gonna be really upset." As if that weren't obvious.

She took off at that, and he watched her leave before turning to the other Mobian. "Come on, already."

Without waiting for Danielle to follow, he stalked off toward the tram, fists clenched. Slasher's prank had reminded him of just how upset he was at... well, just about everything. The stupid gene traders had dragged him off to Cocytus, and then they did all those stupid experiments, and then he had to live with all the stupid kids from the base camp (fortunately, there weren't many), and that stupid dinosaur kept doing stupid things, and the stupid Cocytans made him work for them... that last part really ticked him off, sometimes. It was like they were everyone's parents, even for the adults, and they had to keep an eye on everybody to make sure they didn't kill each other or something.

Someday he would get in one of those crystal starships of theirs, and he'd go right back to Mobius. That'd show 'em.

***

"Now what are you doing?"

The resonant voice carried well, and echoed off of the cavern's walls. The room was barely large enough to fit the Cocytan - nine feet tall, covered in well-kept, golden fur. A series of consoles were set up in the room, small stone platforms with immense, glassy projections on top that stretched almost to the ceiling and served as screens. Controls were on the stony part, and at just the right height so that younger Cocytans, or members of lesser races, could use them. 

The only light came from the greenish glass of the consoles, and the cave stretched off into the distance. The children all said that huge monsters lived off in the caves, but at the time the only other being present with the Cocytan was Slasher. Standing at one of the consoles, golden, black-tipped wings pressed to her sides, turning to look when the other came into the room.

"Oh!" She lowered her head in respect, for a moment, before turning back to the computer. "Pleasant greetings, Creator. Just researching the museum again. Remember all that interdimensional stuff you were talking about this morning? Well, you got me interested." She grinned.

"That is good. Actually, my discussion was not entirely theoretical. Tomorrow, we start work on a prototype."

She turned to stare at him. "Really?"

This time he smiled, and tapped his fingertips together in confirmation. "Quite right. No more questions for now, though. It is late, and I really should be resting about now. As should you."

"Oh, sure thing. In a little. When I'm done." Meaning, she was absolutely captivated and would not be going to bed anytime soon. He shrugged his wings, and left.

She just continued browsing, completely oblivious to the passage of time. One article lead to another, and in the space of an hour she had jumped from interdimensional physics to quantum mechanics to the theoretical origins of the universe, and back again. Jumping back and forth between different reference materials at her leisure, and every now and then checking out a work of fiction; these were sparse, as the Cocytans tended to value scientific development over cultural development.

The Cocytan language was remarkably simple, and this only contributed to the ease with which her mind processed the data. Anything that she didn't understand could normally be resolved with a simple question or cross-reference, and sometimes a trail of cross-references would lead her onto an entirely different subject. It was in following one of these trails that she came across a very different sort of record.

What was this? It wasn't even written in the Basic Language, a fact which intrigued her all the more. A translation program was run, and she began to read.

***

The Creator's personal sleeping chamber was a multi-faceted crystal, a good half of its translucent exterior surface facing in the direction of the sunrise. At night it assumed bluish and darker shades, but in the mornings the sun's rays would gradually light up the interior, and cause a reaction in the crystal that would force it to take a more reddish color.

Its occupant was still resting at the Cocytan equivalent of five in the morning, the crystal beginning to glow around his squat form. On normal days the gradual increase in light and heat would wake him up, but on this day...

"Sir! Siiir!" Slasher knocked on the surface which faced into the rest of the complex, banging frantically on the crystalline wall and calling out as she did so.

None too amused by the whole matter, the Creator slowly awakened from a particularly pleasant dream, opening one eye to see the raptor's outline beyond the wall. A signal from his resonance nodules, and that entire section of crystal spontaneously disappeared to permit her entry.

"Yes?" He did not move from his squat, sleep-standing position. His voice was infinitely patient, but had the subtlest hint of This-Had-Better-Be-Important to it.

She ran in, her entrance as frantic as her knocking, and thrust a datapad into his field of vision. He reached for it, dropped it, and shifted from his position to retrieve it, Slasher speaking so quickly all the while that his drowsy mind could barely focus on individual words.

He tuned her speech out altogether and tried to focus his darkness-adjusted eyes on the pad's bright screen. Squinting, he was able to make out the first line.

["In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth."]

He sighed and handed the machine back, speaking with no small amount of incredulity. "Slasher. You woke me up to show me a creation myth?"

She blinked, and stopped for a moment. When she resumed speaking, he could finally understand her. "Oh, no, sir! You know how everyone's always talking about the Unknown Creator, how we've never been able to figure out what made us? This explains it all!"

Slasher pushed the device back into his hands. "It doesn't just say who made us - it says WHY He made us! Look down here, at this part..." She reached over and pressed a few buttons on the pad, completely oblivious to the Cocytan's blank stare. "This proves that He sent His Son to Earth, and-"

He pushed the pad back towards Slasher, much more insistently this time. "This 'proves' nothing. It is a religious text, written no doubt by a representative of an inferior species. I see no reason to accord it any more credibility than a work of fiction. What on homeworld possessed you to get me up at this hour to show it to me?" Some amount of irritation was beginning to show in his tone, but he remained patient. The raptor had done this sort of thing several times before, though for different reasons.

"But... well, I..." She seemed totally baffled by his response. "I don't know. I found it a little while ago, and kept reading it, and... it just seemed like the answer to everything." She became more confident at this. "And it is! It shows who the Unknown Creator is, and-"

He let out a sigh, and proceeded to cut her off in midsentence. "Slasher, you cannot substantiate any of your claims, and are currently spouting incoherent nonsense. I should not have let you stay up last night. Please go to bed, and allow me to do the same." There were probably one or two hours left until he had to get up, after all.

"But..."

He was becoming quite ticked. "Name one reason why I should take this seriously, instead of throwing you out of my chamber right now."

"Well... I don't know. The book just sort of felt right."

If the Creator had been familiar with the gesture, he would have rolled his eyes. "Slasher. Science is the realm of external observation, not internal conviction. I do not CARE what you feel about the matter, and I am not about to reorganize my beliefs based on the incoherent ramblings of an inferior lifeform who is under the influence of sleep deprivation." He took a breath, and continued.

"I genuinely do not mean to offend you, but I am surprised that you would do something like this after all that I've taught you. Please go to bed, and review a text about the scientific method once you awaken. Good night."

***

Four years later

***

1903 was a pleasant year. The Humans were in the middle of their Industrial Revolution, the Second Renaissance had swept Mobius, and Slasher got to go out to hunt twice a week.

Perhaps she was not aware of events on the other two planets. Either way, it was this last fact that was the topic of conversation at the time, inside the Children's Creche. The structure was a hemispherical greenhouse, a good deal of it underwater; one could look up, past the trees, and see open sky, while the horizon was a much darker blue. Walking right up to the edge and staring out was like peering into an aquarium.

The children liked to meet in a clearing inside the greenhouse, amidst grass and flowers that were almost reminiscent of Mobius. Every now and then one of the Cocytan children would wander through, but most stayed away from the Mobians. 

Slasher continued speaking. "Anyway. Like I said, the Creator's taking me out again tomorrow, and twice a week after that." She sighed contentedly. "It was great! Those antelope-things never stood a chance." The raptor then proceeded to go into a little more detail about it. Not too graphic, but that didn't keep several children from getting disgusted, and several others from becoming even more interested. She grinned.

Andrew counted himself among the disgusted group, and it didn't help that he was in a particularly bad mood. Already he was sixteen, would be full-grown in a few years, but no matter what he did or how he matured it didn't seem to impress the Cocytans. It was positively sickening. The Cocytans themselves weren't even considered Talents until sixty years old. Sixty! By then he'd be too old to do ANYTHING. But, it didn't matter anyway, because he was a member of an "inferior species". They'd never respect him, no matter what he did.

What kind of future did he have ahead of him? He loved electronics and machines, but all the cool technology in the world (and Cocytus had quite a lot of it) was no compensation for his situation. He could learn and do things centuries ahead of the scientists back on Mobius, but he would always be looked down on, almost as a slave. Like one big, perpetual childhood, where he could grow up all he wanted, but would still have an entire race of remarkably humorless parents looking over his shoulder.

And what about raising a family? There were maybe five or six girls in their entire group, and he didn't like any of them that much. They all seemed to have a sort of mindless enthusiasm about them, just like Slasher.

It was probably just as well, because none of them got along very well with him, either. He knew he could be depressing to be around sometimes. But what was he supposed to do? Spontaneously cheer up, forget that he was stuck on an alien planet for the rest of his life? Yeah, right.

"Can I come next time?" A male anteater, talking to Slasher. Maybe a year or two older than he was. He could see them from the rock he was sitting on, about twelve feet off from the rest of the group.

Slasher chuckled. "Maybe. You'd have to talk to the Creator about it. Honestly, now, I'm not sure that you can keep up with me."

"Aww, come on. Speed's my middle name! I outran an entire family of turtles back on Mobius." He smiled, and the others laughed.

"Oh, sure. And I suppose you also outflew a herd of penguins?" She gestured to her wings, still amused.

"You mean a flock. And why not? I've seen flying dinosaurs and foxes, after all. Maybe I just need to find a peregrine falcon to teach me." He winked.

Slasher shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Tachyon was NOT the kind of company you'd want to keep. I don't ever want to run into him again."

"And if you did, he'd probably run away!" More laughter. The whole story was common knowledge by now. Or most of it, anyway. Slasher refused to speak at any great length about her past.

"Maybe. I tell you, though, birds are no fun to hunt. Claw at 'em, and if you aren't careful they drop straight to the ground, and then you have to go down and find the carcass. Bite 'em, and you get a mouthful of feathers. Oh, I'll probably figure out how to get them someday, but in the meantime it's alien antelope for me."

Andrew had heard enough. "Wonderful! Just what we need to hear, the amazing exploits of Slasher the Ferocious. Look at this - the most advanced technology in the universe, and what do you do with it? Go out and stalk game like a wild animal." He drew circles with his hand in the air in front of him, and his voice held subtle notes of sarcasm and contempt. "I don't get it. Is this supposed to be your take on Jurassic Park meets Star Trek, or are you just plain stupid?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Yeah, we've got technology, all right. A swarm of nanites could kill, package and process every game animal on the planet, but where's the fun in that?" More laughter, from the children and teenagers around her. Which just made him all the more upset.

"Fun? Fun!? I thought the whole reason why we built civilizations was so we wouldn't have to do stuff like that anymore. Look at me. I'm a carnivorous predator too, and you don't see me going around, hunting with my bare claws."

"Don't tell me you've never wanted to."

Without thinking, he held his palm parallel to the ground and waved his fingers in the air, in the Cocytan shrug of dismissal. "That's entirely beside the point. Don't you get it? The Cocytans all see us as a bunch of primitive savages, and your behavior isn't helping any."

Becoming irritated, Slasher walked closer and stared down at him. Even sitting on a large rock, Andrew was much shorter than she was. "Is that so? Then why am I the Creator's favorite?"

An even better question might have been: why did she have to remind him? His face grew redder as he returned her glare, and spoke with an icy voice, slowly and deliberately.

"Maybe you amuse him." His comment drew a chorus of ooh-ing and quiet whispering from the others who were watching.

"Oh, really?" She tapped her foot-claws on the ground impatiently.

"That's right." He stood up on the rock, and his face was almost level with hers as he continued speaking. An artificial breeze blew across them from the direction of a cluster of blossoming sandtrees, and he tried to keep from sneezing. "You and your antics. He probably brings you out there so he can see the silly dinosaur cavort about, and be reminded of his 'infinite superiority'."

"Riiiight." Her voice was just as sarcastic as his. The others were silent, now.

He nodded. "I'm glad you agree." Not that she actually did, but the implication would just anger her all the more. "And, being the biological equivalent of a science project, you're probably much more amusing than most raptors."

Slasher's claws dug deeply into the ground. He hadn't known that they could extend that far. "I. Beg. Your. Pardon?"

Her eyes were set on maximum intimidation, but he continued to stare right back, hardly even blinking. However large and powerful she might be, she was also quite a bit younger, and he was sure who would win in a battle of words. "Yup. Those wings are quite a sight, aren't they? Hmm. Don't Cocytans normally live a lot longer than us? I bet they'll make a nice decoration, once you're gone."

"At least I still have my tail."

Another thing he absolutely hated to be reminded of. He clenched his fists and tried to calm himself down, just enough to direct his anger into another verbal attack. "And at least I'm not a half-bird half-breed who follows an arrogant alien around like a puppy. No wonder they see us as inferiors!" He pointed off to the side, still staring into her eyes. "Fetch the antelope! Fetch the bird! Fetch the stick! Good girl!"

Andrew reached over to mockingly pat her on the head, as part of his demonstration, but at the last second hatred consumed him and it turned into quite a blow to her jaw. She staggered a little, probably more from surprise than anything else. Not quite what he'd originally intended, to be sure, but he wasn't at all displeased with the effect.

Or was he? He hadn't thought that her glare could get any more intense, but it did. He actually looked away, instinct overcoming reason and forcing him to acknowledge the presence of a much larger, and more dangerous, predator.

Slasher emitted a low growl through her teeth. Anger turned to fear, his heart rate picked up dramatically and everyone around them held their breaths.

And then she ran away, as fast as she could.

***

Slasher had tried to intimidate him, had given him every chance to back away. But, not only did he continue to defy her, the stupid fox had also challenged her. Openly attacked her, and thereby inviting her to retaliate, to demonstrate her prowess to the others. She'd seen these power struggles several times, back in the raptor nest, and it always ended with one of the participants killed or maimed.

She consciously knew that she shouldn't attack him. The Cocytans all said that it was not acceptable, and that book expressly forbade it. But instinct was eating at her mind, forcing her to take action. And she knew what action she'd end up taking if she stood there and let anger consume her.

So she turned tail and ran, immense feet pounding the ground with audible thudding noises which were only drowned out by her frenzied scream. She channeled her rage into her running, trying to wear herself out so she could calm down.

She came to the edge of the clearing in seconds, and continued running through the trees at cheetah-like speeds for almost a minute. Eventually she leaped onto a tree in front of her and climbed it, clawing and gnawing as she did so, angry growling diminished in volume as her teeth clamped down on individual branches. The bark tasted horrible, but Slasher barely noticed.

Finally she ended up on top of a particularly large limb. Laying on top of it, head and forearms pressed to the bark as she gasped for breath after who-knew-how-many minutes of uninterrupted exertion. By then she was quite thoroughly worn out, but despite her best efforts the anger persisted, a thick, red haze in her tired mind.

Still wrapped around the branch, she closed her eyes and began to pray for the strength to overcome her anger, unconsciously switching between English, Cocytan Basic and the ancient Raptor language as she did so. Slasher's tired speech was remarkable for its incoherence, coming out in between gasps for air, but her desire was sincere and the effect was manifest soon enough. After a minute or so she began to calm down, and concluded the prayer as she allowed herself to relax.

Time passed; she wasn't quite sure how much. At one point she opened her eyes and looked around, without moving her head. The forest was a pretty tranquil place, and in between trees she could see the dark blue of the water beyond the glass. There was very little noise, probably because all the local birds and assorted herbivores were terrified of her. She chuckled at the thought.

This silence was interrupted by the distant noise of someone clumsily crashing through the brush behind her, in the direction of the clearing. Either Cocytan or Mobian, since the resident animals weren't dumb enough to approach a raptor. Especially one who had almost gutted someone less than an hour ago. Who was it? The wind was still now, and she couldn't pick up the individual's scent.

"Hello? Slasher?" Andrew's voice called out, distant but audible. She rolled her eyes, but smiled as she did so. It was incredibly stupid for him to approach her so soon after what had happened, but also remarkably brave. She chuckled again, and waited until he was right underneath her before speaking.

"Hi, Andrew." He must have leaped a foot or two in the air, much to her amusement. She barely moved, but tilted her head to look down at him as he figured out where she was.

"Um..." He was looking up at her, but continued to avert his eyes, and his voice shook with nervousness. "I'm really sorry for what I said..." She remembered the look on Tachyon's face when he had expressed similar sentiments, and began to understand how terrifying it could be to apologize to someone who could effortlessly maim you.

She pitied him, but remained amused as she spoke. All the better to put him at ease. "Don't worry, I won't bite."

He didn't look particularly convinced but kept talking nonetheless, speaking quickly before fear or pride made him change his mind. "I didn't mean it. Any of it. Well, actually, I sort of did, but..." He sighed. "You really do get on my nerves. And you're probably helping to make the Cocytans think we're inferior. But I didn't mean any of the rest!"

The fox closed his eyes, and swallowed before continuing. Slasher found it amazing that she could experience such intense pity and great amusement, all at the same time. She had always spoken with the other children on an equal level, and it seemed remarkably incongruous to see one of them grovelling in front of her. She smiled, and let him finish.

"I take back what I said about your wings. They're beautiful, really. Too beautiful." He sighed, again. "You have everything going so well for you! The Creator likes you, the other Mobians like you, you're almost as good as I am with the machines, and you're a lot stronger than any of us. You can even fly."

He looked down at the ground. "Everyone else got some kind of modification done that made them weaker, or just plain weirder. I used to wish I had an extra tail so I could fly, just like... oh, that other fox back on Mobius. Now I don't even have one, and you've got a pair of wings. I can barely even remember what it felt like to have a tail." It was obviously hurting him just to talk about it.

Andrew continued to speak, not once making eye contact. "Anyway, I'm really sorry. I've been bitter, and jealous, and spiteful, and while you probably aren't giving the Cocytans a good impression I doubt that I'm doing any better." He sighed yet again, and she continued to smile, amazed that he could be so honest about himself. "I'm going back, now. See you later."

It seemed awfully depressing to see him walk away like that. She hopped down and addressed him. "Andrew?"

"Yes?" He didn't turn around.

What to say? "Erm... I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so upset."

The understatement of the century. He didn't acknowledge her, or even look back.

Slasher kept talking, trying to get it out before she thought better of it. "I grew up in a raptor nest, back on Earth. It was..." She shook her head, and tried to figure out how to put things. "It was extremely violent. The adults were always fighting, and attacked each other just about as often as they attacked their prey. The other children and I weren't fed, and so we had to scavenge what we could from their kills. Nobody was even remotely civil with each other, and that's putting it lightly. The first words I learned weren't very nice."

He laughed a bit, and she continued. "Remember how I beat up on Tachyon? I never told you why, did I?"

He shook his head, and turned to watch her as she spoke, interest visible on his face. "By all rights, I should have grown up on Earth. The only reason why I was on Mobius in the first place was because a human trader took me from my nest and sold me to Robotnik."

"Oh?"

She was beginning to question the wisdom of spilling her guts to him, but decided that he deserved to know why she'd ended up scaring him so badly. "I was supposed to be his pet. And, of course, his ultimate reason for owning me was to have me kill Sonic."

Slasher had never met the hedgehog, but had heard of him often enough. "I was being trained to be even more vicious and brutal than I already was. All Tachyon had to do was scratch me, and I got so upset that I actually tried to eat him."

She stopped all of a sudden, closed her eyes, and placed one hand against a tree, leaning on it. "Oh, goodness, but I really don't like talking about this..." It made her sick to think that she'd come so close to killing someone, and not just years past but an hour ago, as well.

Andrew just stared at her, and she opened her eyes and kept talking. "I can still remember the first day that they let me work with you and the other Mobians. I wanted so badly to put my past aside, to prove that I could behave myself. Everyone was scared of me at first... I hated it. I really wanted you all to like me, to treat me like everyone else. Well, I guess I went a little overboard, and I'm sorry for offending you."

This time, she sighed. "I just wanted to prove that I could be civilized. And now, after all that, I ended up getting so mad that I almost killed-" She stopped quickly, and swallowed. "...someone. Shows what a good job I'm doing."

"It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have provoked you like that."

"You're at least half right." She smiled wryly. "You definitely shouldn't have been acting like that, but I should have left the situation a long time before I did. And, really now, will it matter whose fault it is when someone ends up dead?"

He began to walk back to the clearing, and beckoned her to follow. She did so. "Nobody's going to end up dead. You've done admirably, especially when compared to those raptors back in your nest."

This prompted a short laugh on her part. "That's for sure." They would have killed and eaten all the Mobians a long time ago.

The two walked in silence for a minute or two, until Slasher spoke. "Want a ride back?"

"Yes, I think I'd like that."

***

Several Cocytan children had joined the Mobians that evening in the Remote Auditorium, a cylindrical, underground chamber designed as the ultimate in total-fidelity theatres. At the moment, however, the projectors were deactivated, and the room's brownish stone walls appeared quite bare.

Slasher was sprawled out on her side, wings tucked back. The position was almost feline, and quite comfortable, which was one of the reasons why she preferred it at times. The other was so that she didn't attract as much attention as usual - she was head-and-shoulders taller than even the Cocytan children, and tended to stand out in a crowd.

Which she didn't want to do, just then. No... she wanted to be able to think, to sort things out in her mind. In just a few minutes, the Creator was going to be addressing the entire planet about his latest project. Something interdimensional. He'd been working on it for a few years now, but hadn't given out any real details. What was it?

And why did he continue to ignore her about the book? Of course, he refused to believe anything that wasn't outlined scientifically. And that was the problem. She knew the book's message was true - it was as if the God it described had told her Himself, though in a much quieter way. If she could just get him to read the book, find out for himself... but he wouldn't. And even if he did read it, he probably wouldn't listen to that strange voice. It was so frustrating!

Slasher sat there for several minutes, and must have looked as upset as she felt, because everyone stayed away from her. Soon, the projectors switched on, and everyone turned to face the half of the room which was covered in an immense, floor-to-ceiling view of the top of one of the spires. Three-dimensional image, three-dimensional sound... she was sure that if she closed her eyes, she could feel the high-altitude breezes.

They didn't seem to disturb the Creator's fur all that much, at any rate. He stood at a sort of pedestal, speaking into a hovering orb of pure white color. Several others flanked him, and the tops of the small audience were visible at the very bottom of the image. A mechanical voice indicated that the following message had been approved by the Collective Scientific Advisory Board, and then the Creator spoke.

"Welcome to the beginning of the end."

Prophetic words, those were. Slasher blinked in surprise, and he continued. "In earlier times we were a primitive, and savage race. But we learned to control the nanites, and to create implements. To build a civilization, and advance in technology.

"Now, we will witness the end of this civilization. For our technological advancement has culminated in the ultimate device, the machine that will bring us into the Third Age of Cocytus. The Eye."

An almost poetic name, and certainly uncharacteristic of the Creator. He must be most attached to this project, Slasher surmised. And it sounded pretty impressive, at that.

"I do not mean to offend the adherents of Intelligent Design - although their viewpoint is no longer approved by the scientific establishment - but even if we were created by some mystical or supernatural power, it has not given us any specific instructions, nor even evidence of its presence. Designed or not, we are purposeless blobs of organic slime."

No, you aren't! She almost said it out loud.

"Our existence is that of a metabolic factory, consuming raw nutrients to reproduce ourselves. All of our glory, our intelligence, is tied down by our physical existence. The parameters of our consciousness are defined by a mass of biological matter, and our efforts must continually be devoted to its sustenance.

"To be sure, this was most noticeable in the First Age. The ancients spent almost all their time hunting, farming, gathering repulsive organic compounds to fuel their metabolic processes. We have managed to minimize such considerations today, but they still define our existence. Too much of one chemical, and our brains become agitated and unable to concentrate. Too little of another, and they become sluggish and unable to think. Limited thought. Limited capabilities. Limited forms.

"We have all been growing painfully aware of these limitations, recently. Nutrient programs are designed every day, with maximum potential energy in minimum space. Relaxation techniques, to reduce the time spent in sleeping cycles. Even medications designed to regulate unwanted moods."

At this, she shuddered.

"The Eye will change this. All of it. Every industry will become obsolete, and our old existence will be discarded. In three or four years, we will emerge from our planetary chrysalis as beings of pure thought, bound by no restrictions save those we impose on ourselves. We will go anywhere, see everything. We will live forever, and we will pity the mortals who are still tied to their physical forms. We will design our own purposes, make our own destinies. And if there truly is an Unknown Creator, we will visit His throne and demand His secrets.

"We will become Gods."

***

Three years later

***

"I should never have built that awful machine."

Pacing the Creator's crystalline relaxation chamber, Slasher rolled her eyes. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Another Talent, this one possessing creamy white fur, fluttered his wings in irritation. "Your speculation is irrational. Satisfaction has been total - all the thought-forms agree on this." As if in confirmation, a faint, blue light flickered in one of the room's facets, seeming to radiate with exultant glee.

"That's just it." The Creator turned away from the other Cocytan. "Any solution to a problem should involve some amount of difficulty, should have some side effect. This has none, and requires no effort. Something is wrong. Something is not being considered."

This time, the Talent rolled his eyes, despite his professed disdain for the customs of inferior lifeforms. "You cannot halt The Eye simply because you're feeling oddly about it. Science is the realm of external observation, not internal conviction."

He stomped one massive foot to the floor, and glared at the Talent. "Leave me alone. Right now." The one so addressed was only too happy to obey.

"He's right, you know. By your standards, anyway."

The Creator gave Slasher a pained look, and the evening light filtered through the bluish crystal and reflected off of his eyes. "I know. That is the problem."

Not content with that, the raptor continued to speak. "For that matter, you've been downright irrational for the past few years."

He just looked away.

"I mean, think about it. You KNOW that Chaotic Generation isn't all it's cracked up to be. You KNOW that Ethical Calculus has more bugs in it than a rotten log. You're intelligent enough, you've figured it out by now. And yet you continue to believe in them, while at the same time disregarding my own convictions as a psychological effect. Yes, I could just be imagining things, but until you've experienced it yourself you'll never know for sure!"

"You're correct. I am an idiot."

Slasher wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

"Yes, I know all about those logic errors. Ethical Calculus has at least a thousand different interpretations, depending on the moral variables used - all of which are subjective. Chaotic Generation flies in the face of established laws of thermodynamics, and has no means of explaining the creation of vast quantities of information from nothing.

"But I kept trying to rationalize it. Yes, the spontaneous origin of life is laughably unlikely, but it could happen with enough time, I said. And when I found out that the wildest estimates didn't permit Cocytus to be old enough for such a thing, I said the instruments were flawed. And when I couldn't explain the gradual, evolutionary development of the simplest integrated systems - an eye, a wing, even a bacterial flagellum - I toyed with new mathematical models, talked about self-organizing systems. Life crystallizing from nothing, organizing itself with no explanation, no reason, and no living examples." He gave the Cocytan equivalent of a snort of disgust. "Nonsense."

"But, the fact is, I wanted to believe in it. The whole PLANET wanted to believe in it. And so, the most glorious and intelligent civilization in history accepted the wildest lies ever written."

He sighed before continuing. "Chaos does not create. It destroys, reshapes, erodes, but never creates. Only intelligent beings create things. But the only beings advanced enough to create all the galaxy's life are either Gods, or so powerful that they might as well be.

"We hated the thought. We are superior to all other life, we said. We can do as we please, and none can hold us accountable. So we applied our vast intellect to morality and ethics, tried to define proper lifestyles with mathematics. And, ultimately, tried to explain our existence without an Unknown Creator."

"But you know you can't," Slasher put in.

"Exactly our problem. So I tried to figure out how to render the question irrelevant, and built The Eye. Perhaps a God did make us, or beings with Godlike powers, but if we are Gods ourselves then it no longer matters. And now..."

He shook his head. "I am worried. Every day, thousands more pass through The Eye and into whatever existence awaits them. I see glorious cities and monuments, the collective achievements of an entire civilization, abandoned and discarded in the frenzy to obtain immortality. They signal us from the other side - they are happy, they say. Come join us, they say. But what if this is a temporary condition? Will this happiness last forever? And, should they find that it doesn't, will there be anyone left on this side to bring them back?

"After all else that I've done, I may have inadvertently engineered the downfall of my entire species. And it scares me to death." At this, his voice cracked. He cleared his throat quickly.

"The Mobians and I will still be here. We'll be able to let them back through if they want."

He shook his head. "No, you won't. My grandson tells me of your plans and activities in the Creche. Several among your number are already planning to leave Cocytus at their first opportunity, and they are the only ones who know how to work the machines."

"Well, I'll still be here," she muttered.

He didn't seem to notice, and continued. "I have to do something. I have to shock the population somehow, convince them to think more clearly. Perhaps I can prompt them to reconsider their haste."

***

Andrew was sitting at his favorite "beach", again, playing with a handheld computer. Or studying it, at any rate. Going over obscenely complex technical data, studying the sciences necessary to understand interstellar propulsion. When the Cocytans left, he would be ready. He'd take one of those crystal starships, and he would leave.

He set the computer aside and leaned back, placing his hands under his head and staring up at the overcast sky. It was sort of ironic, really. His parents had told him the story of the Cocytans long before they'd gone to the crash site, back on Mobius - their entire race locked itself into Space-Time Six, until a Human expedition had ended up rescuing them.

All the Mobians had tried to tell them what was going on, but no one would listen. They were all too busy to listen, too busy building The Eye and throwing themselves into it. They were obsessed, for that matter; they didn't WANT to listen, didn't want to believe. The most advanced race that he knew of was going to do itself in with its own pride, and all the "primitive", "inferior" lifeforms would inherit their world.

That is, if they decided to stay there. He knew he certainly wasn't looking forward to it. He was going to go back to Mobius, he was going to live the normal life that he was supposed to have, and he was going to forget that this stupid planet ever existed. Andrew had seen quite enough of Cocytan arrogance.

At least they were going to do him the courtesy of proving themselves wrong before he left. He found the concept deliciously amusing.

"Andrew!" Slasher landed right next to him, before he even knew that she was coming. He jumped.

"What? What is it?"

She looked like she was in shock. "The Creator's dead."

He blinked, and tried to process this. "What? How? Can't they just use a life crystal or something?"

"No, they can't. He killed himself. And he explicitly said that he doesn't want to be revived."

"Why on homeworld would he want that?" A Cocytan expression, just like the other few dozen that had slipped into their everyday language.

She started pacing, staring at the ground as she did so. Claws clicking on the stone, and every now and then tapping on it when she stood still. "He's been trying to get everyone to stop going into Space-Time Six. Nobody took him seriously. So, he decided that maybe this would get their attention." She stopped, and faced the Mobian directly. "It's crazy!"

He gestured across the water, where The Eye itself was visible above the central island, five bridges of pure light connecting it with the different spires. It was closed for the day, which explained why Cocytans weren't waiting in line behind him, running up to the light bridge at the top of the stairway set into that spire. "Of course. He's crazy, the others are crazy, the whole world is crazy. What we have here is an entire planet of irrational rational beings." He laughed at his own joke.

"That's the problem." She sighed, and started pacing again. "You guys are all going back to Mobius, right?"

He picked up his computer and began toying with it as he dangled his feet in the water. "I was under the impression that WE were all going back to Mobius."

She ignored that. "Aren't the Humans supposed to come by here sometime? And save the Cocytans?"

"Something like that." He gave her a very curious look, disappointed that she evidently wasn't coming.

"Okay, here's the plan. You all go back to Mobius, and I'll stay behind. Put myself into suspended animation, and wait for them to revive me. Then, I'll help them get everything back online, re-activate The Eye, and let all the Cocytans out."

"I thought the Humans did it pretty well on their own."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they couldn't use a little help. How do you know I didn't end up helping them in the original version, anyway? Maybe I'm destined to do this, or something. Besides..." And she faced him again. "Andrew, Mobius isn't my home planet. When the humans go back to Earth, I want to come with them and see the nest again. Maybe I can help the other raptors become civilized. Teach them religion. Anything. They're my family, for crying out loud!"

"If you insist..."

"I do! In fact, I'm going to do it right now!" And she ran off, up the staircase. He stood, and watched her leave.

"Um... bye?" No, that wouldn't do at all. He cupped his hands to his muzzle.

"Goodbye, Slasher!"

***

2006 AD

One hundred years later

***

Boston Low stood on that same "beach", the stone by now worn and decayed. He stared off into the sky, at the ringed planet visible in the distance.

Weird.

Just like everything else there. Why did everything have to get weird on him? It was supposed to be so easy. Put a couple of explosives on an asteroid, press a button or two, and said asteroid is no longer on a collision course with Earth. Simple.

But noooo, the bureaucrats had to make everything complicated. He had to bring along some German geologist and actually study the asteroid. Not to mention being forced to bring Maggie Robbins. THE Maggie Robbins, world-renouned telejournalist. A reporter! On a Space Shuttle mission!

And then they'd gone poking around inside the asteroid. He sighed, and skipped a rock across the water. Began talking to himself - wasn't quite sure why he kept doing so. "You just had to go messing around with alien technology you don't understand, didn't you, Boston? They might as well have given you a big, shiny button to push. 'Press here to get thrown onto another planet!'"

This wasn't a shuttle mission anymore, this was an archaeological Dig. The planet Cocytus, given its name by the geologist who had accompanied them, was a dead world, completely uninhabited. Unless, of course, one counted all the little rodents, parasites, and other assorted elements of decay. Though he had to admit, most of the structures were actually in a pretty good state of repair. The aliens must have built 'em to last.

He stepped away from the beach. A turtle-like creature of some sort crawled out of the water as he did so, only to be promptly eaten by what looked like the head and neck of an armored plesiosaur.

Weird.

He walked up the steps of the staircase, set into the cliffside. His mood was somewhat more melancholy than usual; Maggie had run off earlier, the geologist was dead and if he wasn't careful he'd likely follow in his footsteps. Oh, well, it wasn't as if he had any way of rectifying any of those problems. Just had to keep looking around, randomly trying out the strange alien devices. It got him there, maybe it'd get him back.

***

What a fascinating room, Low thought. It looked like a bunch of computers were set up in this cave, huge, greenish, glassy screens partially overgrown with vines. At least one of the machines was mostly uncovered; and, of greater immediate importance, his missing reporter was working on it.

"Maggie!" He ran over to where she was working on the computer.

"Yes?" She didn't look up.

Yes, what? "Well... I found you."

"Mm-hm."

"So, uh, I guess, now I know where you are, and... oh, never mind."

"I didn't really need to be found, Boston, and I'm perfectly happy where I am. But, as long as you're here, you might as well go clean off that computer over there."

"Uh... right." She seemed to be making a conscious effort to keep staring at the controls. Was she hiding something?

He went to oblige her, but soon stopped, squinting at an odd silhouette in the shadows. It promptly stepped out into the light.

There was that whole Weird thing again. "Maggie?"

"Mm?"

He pointed. What else was he supposed to do? "There's a winged dinosaur over there."

"Mm-hm."

"It's smiling at me."

"Mm-hm." She looked like she was trying to keep from laughing.

The... whatever it was... gave him a mock-critical look. "Pleased to meet you too, silly. Nice to see that you have a working comprehension of the obvious. Now are we going to get this show on the road, or what?"

THE END of the Cocytan imprisonment (and trilogy)


End file.
